Halfway out of the Dark
by Vilinye
Summary: "He," River announced to the empty room. "is being a bloody idiot." -After Manhattan, the Doctor withdraws from everyone, but River Song's not letting him check out so easily.


"He's being a bloody idiot." River announced to her empty living room. "Six months and not a word." She'd tried a few invitations, even SOSes (faked, of course), but he never showed up.

She'd already mourned them: pressing against his sleeping body until she stopped shaking, snapping pencils every fourth paragraph of that wretched book, burying her face in Rory's old cloak because just maybe she could smell something. But not where he could see her-_never let him see the damage_, she had told Amy.

River glanced at her strings of lights. Even though she'd managed to snag a Douglas fir on her last trip-probably the only real Christmas tree at the whole university, let alone on the moon, -it seemed strangely small, with only a few cards from her students perching on the branches. Her first Christmas in Stormcage, he'd shown up with a tree so laden with tinsel, popcorn, lights, and paper chains that she didn't notice the orange needles until he knocked it over. And the presents must have been transcendentally wrapped-that's the only way the ice sculpture of the Nutcracker ballet could have fit under the tree.

Her first Christmas after the pardon, she'd gone home. Paper crowns, the Queen's speech, mince pies...and just when they were all settling down to watch _Coronation Street_, someone knocked on the door. It was him, of course it was him; whatever Amy had planned, River wanted to claim ignorance.

When he poked his head into the living room, she ignored him for a moment.

"You aren't going to hit me, then?"

"As much as you deserve it, I should think Mum covered that part."

"Squirt gun," he wrinkled his nose. "You told them."

"What did you expect, Sweetie?"

He had tweaked her nose. And in the bustle of wrapping paper, sprouts and crackers, the question had gone unanswered.

"Well, whatever he's gotten himself into, I suppose I'd better get him out of it." River sighed. She opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out the vortex manipulator.

* * *

"I must say, I'm surprised anyone would insist on seeing me at this hour of the night. There are other detectives in London, you know." Madame Vastra eyed her customer. "Unless there are certain, ahem, factors, that would complicate matters."

"Perceptive as always, Madame Vastra. I traced several nonhuman life signs in this vicinity. Not just yours, either."

"One of my associates, no doubt."

"Oh, I didn't mean the Sontaran, and Jenny's obviously human." River glanced at the door, catching the girl's eyes for a moment. "You were at Demon's Run-you know the Doctor. Have you seen him?"

"Demons Run-but that means-" Vastra stared for a moment. "Yes, Jenny said 'a childhood friend.' One of the reasons I agreed to see you. So he did find you after all. Melody Pond, all grown up,"

"Call me River. Please, how is he?"

"Bad, I'm afraid. Very, very bad."

"Retired," Jenny added, not to be outdone.

"Alone?"

"As far as we know."

_Don't be alone_. Why didn't he ever listen? "Did he say why?"

"No. We just keep trying to get him to go on cases with us, and he keeps saying he's retired." Jenny frowned. "Didn't even laugh when Starx declared war on the moon."

"If he won't listen to you, maybe he'll listen to me. Can you help me find him?"

"I'm sorry, I really am, but what makes you think he'll listen to you?" Vastra adjusted her veil. "He doesn't want to talk with anyone, much less his friends."

"He'd bloody well better. I'm his wife!"

Vastra and Jenny stared at her.

"Could you tell us what happened?" Vastra asked.

"Why he's sulking, we mean." Jenny added from the doorway. "Not how you got married. Though I'm sure it's lovely."

She hasn't told anyone about Manhattan yet. "We thought we were safe-we were going to leave, go for fish and chips. Then the Angel-" she shivered. Her blouse and sweater were fine for hanging, but Victorian homes were large and drafty. "The Weeping Angel grabbed Rory, sent him back in time. We couldn't go back for him. So Amy-she let the Angel take her. They're alive, they're together-but he can't see them again."

"You're shaking. Come over by the fireplace," Jenny shoved another log onto the coals. "Madame's always complaining about these London winters."

"Do you have anything I could borrow?" River held her hands over the fire. "I mean, I could just steal a dress, so long as I blend in."

"Jenny, bring River one of my dresses and cloak." After Jenny left the room, Vastra stood by River's side. "Your parents..."

"Yes." _They're happy, they're together_. "But he needs me."

"I don't doubt it."

* * *

It was easier than she expected, really. Strax led her to the last place the Paternoster Gang had seen the Doctor; her scanner traced the atron energy up a ladder, across the clouds, right to the familiar blue box.

Her fingers closed around the handle, gently pushing in. "Well then, what's he been up to?"

Black.

Aqua and black. The glass floor, the curling staircases, even the hammock-swing: all gone. Bolted steel plates cover the walls; the floor glistens like ice. Even the console, concrete grey, is coated with clockwork and chrome. "Did he make you do this, or was it your idea?" she asked. It felt wrong, like walking into your old house and learning someone else has lived there for years.

River walked up to the console, staring up at the time rotor. Where the pale blue tubes met the ceiling, two rows of Gallifreyan symbols stood out against the grey ceiling. After reading the first one, she closed her eyes and turned away.

She walked, and walked, and walked. She's never asked how big the TARDIS really is; "bigger on the inside," while a clever quip, isn't a calculable figure. "Where are you taking me, girl?" After a few hours, she sees the door of her parents' room, nearly hidden behind half a dozen crates. A few minutes afterwards, River nearly tripped over a red scarf.

It wasn't as long or colorful as the one she found in the wardrobe, but she picked it up carefully, folding it in half and tucking it into her sleeve. As she followed the hexagonal hallways, she came across more reminders-a half-finished cup of tea, a note reminding the Doctor that _we have a rule about the bedroom_, Amy's mobile with a snapshot of a binary moon for wallpaper. By the time River loops back to the control room, her pockets bulge with leftovers.

"What are you doing here?"

All she could see was his silhouette. The drooping top hat wasn't a tempting target, even if she'd had her gun. In the cold light, his eyes resembled a dead haddock on Boxing Day.

River held her tongue.

"So you're the one trying to track me down. Suppose you got the whole story from Vastra and Jenny. Didn't they tell you? I'm retired."

SMACK!

The pain only showed for a moment. He blinked, staring at her fist without shock or surprise.

"Don't travel alone! We told you, don't travel alone! It's been six months-no messages, no calls. When I left you, I thought-" River paused for breath.

"Months for you."

"And you?" River slapped him again, just for punctuation. "Don't answer! Years, decades-doesn't matter, you're being an idiot."

"River-"

"You're upset, you're in pain, I understand that. But hiding in your box isn't going to make things better! Oh, I've heard all about it-''the universe doesn't care.'" She mimicked Strax's tone. "For a Time Lord, you have a horrid memory. Our wedding day, don't you remember? A million, million voices saying Yes, we'll help. If you really needed help, ask!

"Oh, but you're too big and important for that. Fine, don't ask me. Don't let Vastra and Jenny lure you into adventures, don't laugh at Strax's jokes. But find someone."

"Replace them! I've done that too many times, one after the other, like goldfish. Not this time. It's not that simple, I can't..."

"They were my parents!" She regretted saying it immediately. How does one top that? It's the trump card of arguments, dredging up your own pain and ignoring someone else's. River mouthed _I didn't mean it, _but in the shadows, he doesn't notice.

* * *

River stalked past Jenny, yanking off the muffler and shaking the cloak heavily before handing it to the girl. "That man! That impossible, ridiculous man! I hate him sometimes."

"I suppose it didn't go well, then." Jenny followed her.

"Would you like a grenade? I find it solves all manner of problems in a most efficient manner."

"Shut up, Strax," Jenny scolded. "You're not helping. Madame's out investigating the Clement Alley case-she wanted you to come around immediately."

"Of course." Strax saluted and marched out the front door.

Once in the parlor, River sank into an hard-backed armchair. So, he was determined to play Scoorge, with a side of the Grinch, and she doubted he'd listen to any Ghost of Christmas Past, no matter what she showed him. Going all Jimmy Stewart would probably backfire as well-he'd just point out it was just a story.

She could snog him senseless, show him the universe, slap him silly, but she knew-suddenly and completely, with relentless finality-that it wouldn't change anything. But she's River Song, and the one thing she never, ever does, is give up. Instead, she called up the memory of their brief conversation, going over every glance, every tone, every word.

"...are you hungry?"

River opened her eyes. The fire had dwindled to ashes on the hearth. She pulled the sleeves down over her hands, barely noticing Jenny's tray of cold biscuits. "Not really, but thanks."

"He'll be okay, you know." Jenny set the tray on the footstool. "He just doesn't want to admit it. Thinks it'd be the same as forgetting them."

"He doesn't like to-" River stared at her. "What did you say?"

"He'll be okay, I promise."

"Not that, the other bit."

"Thinks it'd be the same as forgetting them."

River sprang from the chair. "Oh, that's brilliant! Thank you, thank you!" She raced past Jenny, down the hall, pulling the cloak from the hall and nearly colliding with Vastra on her way out. "Sorry, got to run, you've been most helpful."

Vastra stared after her for a moment. "I hope it goes well. For your sake, and for his."

* * *

"So, you're back." He didn't even look up from the console when she walked in.

"Disappointed? I'm afraid you'll have to put up with me a while longer, sweetie." River shut the TARDIS doors behind her. "Now, listen."

"Another lecture. You should be good at it by now."

"Not exactly," River pulled the dematerialization lever. "Call it a field trip."

"Fine," he crossed his arms. "Where are you going?"

"We," River corrected. She pulled down the screen. "This wasn't where I was going."

"I thought you knew how to fly her."

_He's trying to tease me_, River's lips twitched. "The scanner says Acadia. I've never heard of it before-I don't even know if it's a city, a nation, a planet..."

"No, you wouldn't. It was destroyed in the war. A human settlement, over eight million souls-less than two thousand survived. I was there, I saw it all..." He stepped backwards. "We're leaving."

"Oh no, you don't get out of it that easily." River snapped her fingers, and the doors swung open. "Or would you rather sulk in the vortex for another century?"

He adjusted his top hat. "If you insist."

It didn't look like a battleground or a wasteland. In fact, it didn't look like anything had happened there, ever. Long grass stretched to the horizon, gently blowing in the wind. Even the sky was the faded cream of an empty coloring book. The Doctor followed her outside, sitting down with his back against the TARDIS. "Is this the part where I tell you how beautiful it used to be, or the part I suffer crippling flashbacks?"

"Neither." River sat down next to him. "That must have been what, a hundred, three hundred years ago?"

"I lost count."

"Was Romana there?"

"What? How do you know her name?"

"I'm an archaeologist; it's my job to remember what everyone else has forgotten." She could almost hear his hearts beating faster. "Just like saving people is yours."

"Not doing so well at it."

She remembered the names inscribed above the console-people he never speaks of. "It was her choice."

"She shouldn't have had to choose." One of her hairs drifted onto his sleeve. "We were just about to visit the pub-The Hole under the Hill, wonderful place. Their ginger pop. mmmm."

"As long as it's not that starberry smoothie from Arpheenteer. When you tried to explain the recipe to Amy, she laughed so hard it shot out her nose. It turned purple for a month."

"Hey, she was a big hit at the Sneetch Parade."

"You were better at the Alice Festival. Which one were you again-Tweedledee or Tweedledumb?"

"At least they properly appreciated my magnificent apparel." He reached for a non-existent bowtie. "I just thought it was time for a change, that's all."

* * *

_I haven't seen The Snowmen yet, so consider this AU. And I'm not entirely happy with the ending, but it felt like that was where they'd stay for a while. I might add more later, though._


End file.
